Introduction
This is a story about how I fell in love with my best friend's wife.
This is a slow seduction story that builds up and not a quick jump into the sack story.
***
Everything I've mentioned actually happened, however for privacy reasons, I have changed the names of those involved.
"Lucky bastard," I murmured softly.
Savio, my Goan friend sitting to my right overheard me and grinned in agreement.
We were at my friend Sohel's wedding when I saw his bride, Zainab, for the first time--as the cloth separating the couple was lifted during the Nikah ceremony.
She was stunning--sharp yet gentle features, high cheekbones, and flawless, marble like skin. Her eyes sparkled, and she had a smile so beautiful it could stop anyone in their tracks. She was in a very regal-green dress adorned with gold zardozi and looked like a princess.
She was so breathtaking, I couldn't get her out of my mind for the rest of the evening. I'm sure it was the same for many of the guys there.
Later, in the evening at the walimah, or the wedding reception, we went to greet them and hand over our gifts.
After handing my gift, I hugged Sohel and whispered in his ear "you're one lucky bastard, you know that?" making him laugh out.
Perhaps I'd said it a bit too loudly, because Zainab looked at me with a shocked look on her face, and then blushed.
"Bhabhi, do you have a sister?" I asked her, using the term for sister-in-law.
"No, sorry I don't," she smiled.
"Oh, what a pity."
After we'd finished wishing them, Sohel's brother Shoaib took us around introducing us to his family, and later of course we attacked the lavish buffet spread.
The next day, we said our goodbyes and headed back to our respective hometowns.
Back in Bangalore, I got pulled into my crazy work schedule and soon forgot all about the trip to Lucknow. Apart from the occasional forward or casual banter on our friends chat group, I didn't have much contact with Sohel.
***
About two year later, I got a call from him.
"Hey Sohel, long time. How is married life?"
"All good Samir. Look, I called to tell you that I've got a job offer in Bangalore, and I have to join in two weeks."
"Wow, that's great. Will be good to have you in the same city."
"Yes, bhai."
"So, we're going to stay in a serviced apartment for a few weeks, until we find a good flat."
"Like hell you're staying in a serviced apartment. You're going to stay at my place till you find a flat," I replied.
"Are you sure?"
"Of course, I'm sure. It'll be good to have some company. It gets quite boring when I return from work."
"Hmmm. Okay, thanks a lot. I'll keep you updated on our plans."
*** Two weeks later ***
Sohel and Zainab arrived at my flat quite late on Sunday evening after a three hour flight and an almost two hours cab ride from the airport.
I embraced my friend and bowed down slightly for Zainab.
"Welcome to my home bhabhi. Please consider it your own home. It is at your disposal for as long as you like," I told her. I knew I didn't have to be formal with my pal.
"Thank you, bhaijaan," said Zainab, with an adab.
This was only the second time I was seeing Zainab, and she looked even more stunning than I remembered, in a natural look without all the wedding makeup.
She was in a lemon yellow salwar kameez and a sky blue hijab that covered her head only partially, leaving some of her soft brown hair uncovered. She was about five and a half feet tall, with a slim frame and full, medium-sized breasts. The more I looked at her, the more I felt envious of my friend.
I showed them their room and excused myself so they could freshen up.
About an hour later, we were seated in the living room. Zainab was still in her hijab, but I didn't mind because I knew she was not supposed to take it off in front of a non-mahram (non-family).
I would normally have offered a whiskey to Sohel which I knew was his favourite drink, but was not sure about Zainab's views on drinking alcohol, so I got some iced tea for all of us.
"So, it's great to see you again," I said.
"Many thanks for letting us stay in our home, bhaijaan," Zainab said, I bit formally.
"Bhabhi, this is the front door key," I said, handing her the duplicate.
"Thank you," she replied.
"Please don't keep saying that, you are embarrassing me, Sohel and I go way back. This is your home too--no formalities, please."
She smiled. "Sohel always said you're more like a brother to him."
"Yes, bhabhi," I nodded.
Just then, the doorbell rang.
"Oh, that must be the food I ordered," I said, getting up.
"You ordered from outside?" asked Zainab.
"Yes, Bhabhi."
"So do you eat outside food very often? That's not healthy at all."
"Only now and then. Maybe a couple of times a week. My cook has a limited menu, so it gets a bit boring," I said, transferring the food from the plastic containers into serving bowls.
"This won't do, bhaijaan. You need to get married," she said with a playful shake of her head.
"That's why I asked you at your wedding if you had a sister!" I grinned.
"Yes, I remember. Don't worry, I have many beautiful cousins. I'm sure you'll find one of them compatible with you," she said with a smile.
"Thank you. If you'd told me that day, I'd have extended my stay in Lucknow," I joked.
"Oh, don't worry. One of them is going to be visiting me once we find a nice house and settle down. I'll introduce you to her then."
Sohel, who'd been quietly listening, jumped in. "Yeah, yeah, introduce him to someone. But be warned--he had a new girlfriend every two months in college."
"Really?" Zainab asked, raising her eyebrows at me.
"No, he's exaggerating."
"Well, two that I know of. Aisha and Zeenat from the girl's college nearby. And maybe a few others..." Sohel added, smirking."
"Aisha wasn't even from the girls' college--she was two years senior to us in our own college."
"Still counts," Sohel grinned.
